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It happens, as most remarkable things do, on an absolutely unremarkable day.
He’d known he was going to do it for months. To be honest, he’d probably known, way in the deepest layers of his mind, from the moment he laid eyes on her. But he’d made the conscious realization not long after what happened at Sergei’s house.
He’d avoided her at first (well, he’d avoided everyone, really. But especially her). But his efforts could only last so long - trying not to think of someone is a surefire way to find your thoughts drawn inevitably toward them. So it wasn’t long before he couldn’t keep her out anymore.
They’d sat in silence for a long time. Then it was like a dam broke, and they’d talked, they’d screamed, they’d cried (well, she’d cried, and he knew himself and their connection well enough to know some of those tears were his own). Eventually, he accepted her words - that he was not a monster, that he was cared for, that he was loved - even though he suspected part of him would never fully believe them, would be eternally waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the dream to end and to be pulled back into bleak reality. But it never did.
As time passed, Kala’s dedication to making him feel loved never wavered, never fluctuated, never showed any indication of decline. Wolfgang realized he’d begun to live in a world that had been denied to him his whole life - a world where, finally, there was someone on his side. Someone who’d smile when their eyes met, who ran their fingers through his hair, who kissed him and hugged him and played with his fingers when they sat on the sofa watching crap TV. Someone who, despite what Wolfgang ever thought his life could be, loved him. Someone who loved him so much, even Wolfgang himself couldn’t deny it.
As he stands there, gazing up at the elegant yet understated storefront in the middle of Berlin, he remembers how strange everything had felt at the very beginning - the lifting of a pain he hadn’t realized he’d carried for most of his life, a relief so intense it almost read as desperation. The fact of the matter was that he’d been profoundly lonely for pretty much his entire life but hadn’t realized it, and it had been a constant weight on him, only to be noticed by the stark contrast left behind when it was lifted, like not knowing how terrible your eyesight truly is until the first time you put on a pair of glasses.
So yes, he’s known this was coming for quite some time.
He takes a deep breath, easier than he’s breathed in years, and walks into the jewelry store.
He’s hardly even begun looking at the counters when he feels the presence behind him appear. He meets Will’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror behind the counter, and the tips of their lips quirk upwards simultaneously.
Will strides forward to stand next to Wolfgang. “You’re proposing, then?”
Wolfgang nods, the smile not quite leaving his lips.
“Congratulations, man,” says Will, clapping him on the shoulder. “You guys are gonna be so happy together.”
That small part of him that’s always sitting in the back quietly, waiting for him to wake up into reality once more, rears its ugly head. Will clearly feels the path Wolfgang’s thoughts go down, because he furrows his brow and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.
“Hey. She’s gonna say yes. You know that, right?”
“Oh stop being such a downer, Wolfie,” says Nomi, appearing behind him and wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Of course she’s gonna say yes.” She kisses him on the cheek and moves around to stand in front of him.
He appreciates their efforts, but the quiet doubt in the pit of his stomach doesn’t ease much.
“She’s right, you know,” Sun says, materializing next to him, hands clasped in front of her as she peruses the rings under the glass. Her subtle, strong presence helps ground him. He knows she wouldn’t waste time with social platitudes; Sun’s preferred method of communication is the unvarnished truth - not cruel, but certainly not embellished. They meet each other’s gaze, and she gives him a small, gentle smile. The knot in his stomach lessens a bit.
“So now that we’ve settled that she’s going to say yes and you’ll be disgustingly happy together for the rest of your lives,” says Nomi, “let’s get started, shall we?”
The three visitors spread out across the shop, browsing the rings, calling each other over to look at any specific one that seems like something Kala would like, and Wolfgang stands there looking at them for a bit, smiling softly at himself, in awe once more at what his life has become.
It’s a small ceremony, in the end.
After everything that happened with Rajan, Kala had come to associate the idea of such a large wedding with a feeling of being smothered. She’d been surrounded by people and flowers and smells and fabrics and foods, choices that she’d only halfway agreed to, and only to make everyone around her happy instead of herself.
Everything about her relationship with Wolfgang is different to what she’d had with Rajan - she’s enthusiastic rather than reluctant, eager rather than hesitant, and most importantly, she’s being honest rather than waiting for the lies to become the truth. She’d felt that the wedding should reflect that, that it should be as different from the past one as her relationship with Wolfgang is from Rajan’s.
So they have a small ceremony, much less traditional than her parents would’ve probably liked but just perfect for them, a mix of what they both wanted it to be. She wears a lengha again, gold this time, and Wolfgang wears a new bespoke suit for the occasion. The only people there are her immediate family, Felix, and the sensates and their guests, who had all flown in to India for the occasion (Sun paid for everyone to be there, as a much appreciated wedding gift).
As soon as the ceremony is over and the music starts playing, the whole cluster gathers around them to congratulate them both. Lito’s the first to come bounding forward with his arms wide open, engulfing Kala in a huge hug. They both startle slightly at the feeling, unexpected yet familiar, that they all experience whenever they touch each other in real life rather than in visits - the feeling of fingertips on skin and skin under fingertips, touching and being touched, all at once.
“Felicitaciones, hermosa,” he whispers in her ear. “I can know already that you will be so happy together.” He kisses her forehead before releasing her to Hernando, who hugs her and congratulates her in slightly broken English, which she thankfully understands and replies in (everyone still has an oh, right moment when they have to speak with someone outside the cluster who doesn’t share a language with them and they have to actually work to communicate).
After Hernando comes Capheus, beaming wide and watery-eyed as he hugs her so forcefully he lifts her off the ground. The two had grown a strong bond when Kala visited once not long after their first meeting, equipped with her pharmaceutical company’s best AIDS medication for his mother. Kala will never forget the look on his face that day - like she’d given him the entire world.
They both laugh as he sets her down. “Kala, my friend,” he says, wiping his eyes even through his grin. “I wish you every happiness.”
“Thank you, Capheus,” she replies, kissing his cheek fondly. He moves on to give Wolfgang a similarly lung-crushing hug of his own as everyone else comes by to congratulate her in turn, all bear hugs (Will) and kisses on the cheek (Riley) and poorly concealed innuendo about wedding nights (Nomi and Amanita), and everything else in between.
They hardly break contact the entire night. Save for those first few minutes where they were wrapped up by friends and family, as well as inevitable separations such as bathroom breaks and taking turns dancing with friends, they’ve kept a steady thread of physical touch all night. Wolfgang grazes his fingers back and forth across her back as they talk to Will and Riley; Kala plays with his fingers while they’re sitting at the table chatting with Auntie; they hold each other tight as they dance, and he massages her feet when the dancing gets too much. A hand on a hip here, brushing some hair away there, steering each other by a gentle hold on the elbow.
And the kissing. Always the kissing. Kissing the backs of knuckles, bare shoulders, tops of heads, tips of noses, and of course, gentle pecks (and several more-than-pecks) on the lips, just because they want to, because they can, because it’s allowed.
Kala, who was never deprived of affection for a second of her life, seems to think nothing extraordinary of it, other than to blush rosily whenever Wolfgang’s lips catch her by surprise.
But Wolfgang - oh God. He’s surprised enough by Kala’s constant ministrations - the look in her eyes when they meet his, the feeling when she wraps her arm around his waist and the way she gently nibbles his lower lip when they kiss and nobody’s looking. But if all that’s unexpected, then his own behavior is outright absurd.
He’d never thought of himself of a particularly affectionate person, but with Kala, it feels as easy and natural as blinking, as breathing, as loving her. He’ll see his own hand graze up and down her arm as she chats with relatives, unsure when he sent the signal to his muscles to do such a thing, but completely unable to stop. He pulls her against him without a thought, any distance between them generating a low-level hum of displeasure in his subconscious until he sees it banished.
Eventually, though, they have another of their brief separations - Kala’s dancing a lively Latin beat with Hernando on the dancefloor while Wolfgang takes a break at a table, nursing a beer and watching them. Felix drops into the chair next to him, offering him a beer to match his own. Wolfgang takes it with a nod and they clink them together before each taking a sip.
“You could do a lot worse, you know,” says Felix, watching Kala giggle as Hernando spins her towards him.
“Yeah, I do know,” he answers, the corner of his lips quirking upward.
“But then again,” continues Felix, taking another swig of his beer, “so could she.”
Wolfgang's brow furrows, turning his gaze toward his friend.
“I’ve never seen you look at anything the way you look at her, Wolfie. Not the S&D, not the diamonds... Not even Sara Müller when she took your virginity. And you looked at her like a fucking idiot.”
He shoves Felix’s shoulder. “Shut the fuck up,” says Wolfgang as they both laugh.
“I’m serious, though,” says Felix after another swig of his beer. “I’ve seen you survive, Wolfie, and I’ve seen you get by, but... I’ve never seen you happy. And with her...” They both look at the dancefloor again, where Kala is grinning and clapping along with the other dancers at the end of the song. “With her, you are,” he finishes simply.
Kala hugs Hernando around the neck and meets Wolfgang’s eyes across the room. He watches her face light up with a smile that would put the sun to shame, excusing herself with a smile and starting to make her way to Wolfgang.
“Yeah,” he says softly to Felix, to himself. “Yeah, I really am.”